Things Never to be Mentioned
by Loves-Chihuahuas
Summary: ...Of course he did not notice, seeing as he was staring down his computer screen while endeavoring to regulate his breathing between the bouts of pure, unadulterated PAIN.Good Lord, why did this have to happen now of all times! No Slash.


_**Things Never to be Mentioned**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, nor do I own a peach copic marker TT^TT

**Info/Warnings:** Takes place during handcuff arc. No pairings. Uhhmmm…. You may feel a bit queasy—or maybe not. I don't think you'll see this coming, but if you do, then… well, you're a bit sick O.O' _I'm warning you right now, this will get pretty sick_—not as sick as I could make it, but still…

**A Request: **Would anyone like to be my Beta? :3 I usually catch the majority of my mistakes, but I always forget a few things that a Beta would hopefully fix. Someone who actually likes my stories, is proficient in grammar and sentence structure, is not afraid to give me suggestions on my writing style, is quick, does not mind gore, and is generally nice would be preferable ^^ If you're interesting in Beta-ing for me, send me a message, o-tay? I'll wuvs you forever, and you'll get to see my stories and updates before everyone else ;)

_**Things Never to be Mentioned**_

_Subtitle: Don't say it, pwease~! XD_

Yes, it hurt. Right… _ah, there, OW! _Light squinted his eyes slightly at the sudden, sharp pain that seemed to sear his abdomen from the inside out. Not wanting to be caught in his moment of suffering, Light smoothed his face back into an expression of polite indifference, praying L hadn't noticed his little problem—quite hypocritical, though, considering that L was in a likewise situation, attempting to quell the bubbling ache in his abdomen without garnering any attention.

Light sat at his computer chair, his fists curled and trembling on the desktop, resisting the urge to double over and put his head between his legs right there in front of L and the whole taskforce. He thought himself to have a high pain tolerance, what with his keen intellect and manliness, but this deep-seated _burning_ was close to tipping him over the edge- but, no, he would not let this happen, not in front of _L, _who would use it to further humiliate him and raise his Kira percentage. So, the young genius grit his teeth and attempted to pick up the manila folder lying in front of him with his usual careless elegance; what was produced, however, was a graceless jerking motion that almost ended in the folder landing on the floor. Light's faced burned as he clenched the folder tightly, glancing furtively around through his haze of pain to see if anyone had observed his moment of, ah, inelegance. No, thank goodness; even L had not noticed, glued as he was to his computer screen.

Of course L did not notice, seeing as he was staring down his computer screen while endeavoring to regulate his breathing between the bouts of pure, unadulterated _pain. _Good Lord, why did this have to happen _now _of all times? He couldn't even concentrate properly, what with his midsection feeling as though a fire demon were gnawing at his intestines from the inside and all that happy-funtime-jazz. O.O' …Alright, maybe the pain was affecting his mood more than he initially thought.

Perhaps he should calculate just how much his suffering was interfering with the investigation—just as another tumultuous wave of pain crashed through him, almost sending him to the floor and causing the unsteady bile in his stomach to jump partially up his esophagus. The detective swayed slightly in his crouch, clutching his knobby knees in a death grip to keep from crumpling to the ground. Quickly taking advantage of the moment of clarity as the pain rolled out, L did a mental calculation, taking a few more seconds than usual in his wearied state. His right eye twitched from more than just the next dizzying fit of stinging pain as he finished his calculation; this… _plight _was lowering his reasoning abilities by 72.8%, approximately. This was unacceptable, period.

Though he would really rather not, mostly for the sake of his pride, he had to place the investigation first at all costs. This had to be taken care of now before his mind was left a pile of Matsuda-like goo—and before something far worse involving a good deal of disinfectant happened; that he simply would not allow. So, it was with much internal suffering (both in his mind and gut) that L rose rather quickly from his seat and tugged on the chain connecting him to his suspect. Without sparing him nor the investigation team a glance, L shuffled hurriedly out of the room, his hunch even more pronounced as he called to the room in general, "I need to attend to something important, carry on." He did not even turn when Matsuda yelled something intelligent about bad tasting coffee. The desperate detective made it past the door, then half-jogged as quickly as his stomach would allow towards the nearest elevator, his pain-riddled suspect struggling to keep up.

Light, suddenly removed from his seat in a moment of blinding pain by his supposed 'friend,' fought to keep from simultaneously gagging and screaming as he was forced to move faster than his suffering body would consent to. His jelly-like legs did not help much as he attempted to make the quivering mass of muscles move faster. Colors rushed past his hazed eyes on the frantic journey the man leading him chose, Light not knowing where he was going until he saw L making a beeline for the nearest elevator. Pain rippled through his gut once more, making him stumble as the edges of his vision went red. Light lurched forward towards the elevator door L was entering, stumbling in before the pale man had a chance to yank the chain connecting them.

Light grabbed the elevator railing as L unsteadily pushed a button some 4 floors up. Leaning heavily on the metal strip running along the plush interior of the elevator, Light finally managed to ask, "L- why—_where _are we going!"

L turned his head away from the teen as he winced once more, resisting the urge to fall into the fetal position there on the elevator's maroon carpet. Keeping his voice as near a monologue as he could in his extreme discomfort, L answered with the same cryptic message, "I have something urgent to attend to."

Light squinted his eyes at the detective and tried to calm the trembling nerves in his arms and legs—this was only getting worse with movement, and he needed to lie still if he wanted to avoid… certain, _undesirable _situations. The burning, bubbling sensation in his stomach crashed through him once more. Teeth clenched against the screams rising, acidic and sour in his throat, Light waited impatiently for the elevator to reach whatever destination L was headed to. Both suffering geniuses hung on to the fine thread of control over their stressed and tormented bodies, willing the creeping elevator to move faster.

2.53 tortuous minutes later and the elevator light flashed green. L rushed out the parting metal doors, nearly running, desperate to reach that blessed room. The teen connected to him was finding his condition to deteriorate with more agitated movement. Light gasped at the pain emanating from his gut, knowing he was about to tip over the edge of self-control. His right foot landed on the carpet in front of his left in the maddening pattern of jogging, agony racing from his ankle up through his groin to his gut. A shout was choked back, and he couldn't keep it back any longer- he had to, before it was too late and something much worse than the death of his pride happened—"L, I-I need the bathroom, n-now!" Light's normally tanned face, turned a creamy pale color of curdling milk by his gut's rebellion, flushed a spattering of pink across his cheeks at his admittance.

L stilled in his frantic race for a moment, turning to stare in disbelief at the younger, revealing his own sickly appearance. Light's eyes widened moments after L's, coming to the same devastating realization. Both now fully comprehending the awkwardness and urgency of the situation, the two intelligent and pain-filled males stood at ill at ease five feet apart. The reappearance of their pain, however, seemed to snap the two out of their motionless state.

The rushing of boiling madness pushed the words from the suspect's mouth, Light gasping out, "T-the key! Get the key!" L, instead of rushing to extract the key to the handcuffs from wherever on his person he hid it, shook his head 'no' slowly while grimacing.

Light's pained expression mixed quite interestingly with one of confusion, "What? Come on, L! You know we need to get to separate bathrooms, _now_!"

L fixed Light with a slightly dampened glare, managing to bite out his words while still in a monotone, "You are a suspect, Light-kun, and very well may the most prolific serial killer this era has seen—you will not leave my side, even for _this."_

Light moaned in suffering and frustration, growling, "How are we going to share a bathroom? It won't work!"

L backed up a few steps surreptitiously, asking quietly, "Who said anything about sharing a bathroom?"

Light's eyes enlarged dramatically for the second time that day, and he snarled, "No! I'm not waiting while you're in there! I won't make it that long! _Get the key and unlock us NOW!"_

L shook his head once more.

"Fine."

There was a moment as the two geniuses stared each other down, their insides screaming, then—Light made a dash for the bathroom door, 15 feet away, 10, 7, 4-**BAM! **L rammed his shoulder into Light's, sending him crashing to the floor. By the time Light dragged himself off the floor, the bathroom door had snapped shut.

The desperate young man scrabbled at the doorknob, but to no avail; the lock was in place and not budging. He then took to smashing his fist on the door, screaming, "L, come on! Open up, don't leave me in the _hallway_ for God's sake!"

Inside the bathroom, L was hurrying towards the toilet, "No, Light—I don't want you in here for this, besides; there is only one toilet."

Light sank to his knees, overwhelmed by the burning, surging pain traveling ever farther downwards. It had been too long. It was inevitable. It was going to happen, in just a few moments. Right here. In the hallway.

*A/N: Alright folks, there are 2 endings. The first one below is less explicit, so if you're queasy read the following and _not _the second ending. If you can handle queasiness, read the second ending. Or, you know, you could read both, since they end differently ;)

ENDING 1:

Panting, Light sat with his back braced against the bathroom door, his breaking point nearing at the speed of his neurons firing blasts of pain-waves. Well, if he was going to suffer the ultimate humiliation, he would make L share in his misery—he should have made it to the toilet by now…

Indeed, L was at the toilet, so close of ridding himself of the unbearable, lava-drenched pain. He fumbled, finally undid his button and rid himself of his jeans, pants and boxers pooled around his ankles. He made to sit down on the porcelain throne, finally! The cool of the gleaming toilet seat met his bottom in a cool sensation that felt so wonderful compared to violent burning in his guts. Now he'd be rid of thi—**CRASH**! L was yanked off the toilet, the chain under the door reeling him away from his relief like a fish.

"Light! STOP!" L yelled, attempting to crawl back to the toilet.

"NO!" Light screamed back, heaving on the chain again and hearing the satisfying sound of the detective's chin meeting the tile.

"99%!" L screeched back at the door, finally reseating himself on the toilet and wrapping his legs around the base.

"LIAR! LET ME IN!" Light wailed, feeling the lava-like blaze center itself at his exit as his cramping reached a climax. He grabbed the chain and tugged repeatedly

L's upper half, unanchored, was jerked forwards several times, "OH, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" He sprinted off the toilet seat, unlocked the door, and wrenched it open. Light immediately scrambled in, racing towards the toilet. L, however, had re-seated himself and was not budging. Light attempted to shove the detective off the toilet, ramming his shoulder into L's as the detective had done to him earlier. L quickly kicked him away, Light landing in the tub.

"Go in the trash can!" L yelled angrily.

Light wanted so badly to do more than tell L where he could put the trashcan, but he felt something wet, and knew that little trashcan was his only hope. Light ambled out of the tub and divested himself of his pants and boxers, seating himself awkwardly over the little wicker trash bin just in time for the- ooo ooooo ouuuuuuuuu uuccc cccccc chhhhhhh hhhhhh hhhhhhhh hh~! Release, painful but so much less so than holding it in! The embarrassment he and L could deal with later, right now he had to empty himself of what felt like white-hot magma—yes, diarrhea really sucked, especially with a chain involved.

ENDING 2 (explicit):

Panting, Light sat with his back braced against the bathroom door, his breaking point nearing at the speed of his neurons firing blasts of pain-waves, feeling the lava-like blaze center itself at his exit as his cramping reached a climax. A feeling of wetness invaded the bottom of his pants, bringing on a strong smell of petrol, and Light choked back the urge to vomit. Well, if he was going to suffer the ultimate humiliation of crapping his pants, he would make L share in his misery—he should have made it to the toilet by now…

Indeed, L was at the toilet, so close of ridding himself of the unbearable, lava-drenched pain. He fumbled, finally undid his button and rid himself of his jeans, pants and boxers pooled around his ankles. He made to sit down on the porcelain throne, finally! The cool of the gleaming toilet seat met his bottom in a cool sensation that felt so wonderful compared to violent burning in his guts. He unclenched his muscles, the sickly, acidic sludge squirting out into the waiting porcelain basin —**CRASH**! L was yanked off the toilet, the chain under the door reeling him away from his relief like a fish. The reeking, hot, brown diarrhea spattered the side of the toilet and white tiles as L was jerked towards the door. The detective struggled and finally managed to clench his ring of muscles back and stop the flow of stinging fluid.

"Light! STOP!" L yelled, attempting to crawl back to the toilet without letting loose on the floor.

"NO!" Light screamed back, heaving on the chain again and hearing the satisfying sound of the detective's chin meeting the tile as he slipped in his own excrement.

"99%!" L screeched back at the door dark, rank stains adorning his shirt and hands like a mockery of his earlier consumed chocolate. L heaved himself back on the toilet and wrapped his legs around the base, the never-ending cramps pushing more liquefied feces out.

"LIAR! LET ME IN!" Light wailed, the mess in pants burning like acid against his skin and soaking through to the floor. He grabbed the chain and tugged repeatedly

L's upper half, unanchored, was jerked forwards several times, "OH, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" he screamed, falling half-way off the toilet and almost landing face-first in his own waste. L wrapped his right arm around the chain and wrenched heavily, hearing a thump on the other side of the door.

Light's back thumped against the door, causing a particularly strong bout of cramps to explode forth, the fetid slush shooting out and spreading farther and soaking the carpet where he sat. The chain was yanked on L's side once more, and Light fell sideways, his face landing in the dampened carpet. The rancid smell, like rotting flesh and moldy pears, hit him full-force, and bile surged up his throat, and unable to stop it, he vomited on top of the diarrhea-soaked spot on carpet. The sick messily exiting his mouth tasted sourly sweet, like coffee spiked with his own diarrhea—and that thought caused him to gag and stomach acid to gush forth once more.

"O-oh, _God!"_ Light moaned, the pain, embarrassment, and stench too much for him to comprehend at this point. He didn't know what he would do about the searing crap burning away at the skin of his back side and legs, but he knew he had to get out of the hallway before someone came looking for them and found him in the hallway. So Light stood unsteadily and began banging on the door again, yelling with an aching throat from the vomit still clinging to his tonsils and coating his tongue, "L, please! What if someone comes by? Let me in, please, I'm a mess!" The fiery, lava-like fecal matter ran down his legs as his stomach muscles continuously contracted to force out the bitter substance.

L sat panting on the toilet, his pants and boxers cast off in a far corner as he enjoyed a lull in his suffering, wondering whether he should let the other tormented guy in or just yank on the chain again.

"Please, please, God I'm going to vomit again…!" Light moaned, leaning against the door, still more defecate leaking out of his searing anus and down his thighs.

L approached the door, hesitated, and finally closed his hand resolutely on the knobs. The door swung open, and light fell into L, both landing on the soiled floor. Light pushed himself up from where he lay on the detective, looking down at the other with an inscrutable look on his face. He then vomited abruptly, right in L's face.

L pushed Light roughly off his figure and scrubbed frantically at his eyes, exclaiming, "You're sick, you know that?"

Light's reeking pants and boxers hit the tile with a sickening splat as he claimed the toilet and sighed in contentment, thinking happily, 'Not as planned, but whatever.'

END

A/N: That was a day that Watari erased from the tapes xD Well, was it sick or pretty tame? Did you think it was going to be diarrhea? XD Did anyone catch the reason for the diarrhea? :D I was going to have them fight on the floor in the second ending(and have someone walk past and see the whole horrific scene, since they forgot to close the door…), but I got lazy. XD Should I have upped the rating…?

Nummy yum-yums xD Yes, if you haven't guessed yet, I have a very strong constitution.

REVIEW! But no meanie, okay? :3


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